


Treat Me Well

by hongbab



Category: VIXX
Genre: Doctor/Patient, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:57:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9847760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hongbab/pseuds/hongbab
Summary: Taekwoon is too much of a perfectly snarky smartass for Hakyeon’s stupid teenage girl-like taste in men.





	1. I

Hakyeon cranes his neck to look out the window behind his back, the setting sun gilding the bare trees out there, birds chirping among the branches, and he might be imagining it, but he believes he can see a squirrel on the oak tree that stands closest to the building.

"When is it going to end?" he groans, sprawling out on his chair.

"Last patient for today," Hongbin murmurs from behind his desk, typing away on his keyboard before he stands up, walking to the door. "And stop whining; you've only been on duty for four hours today."

"There have been so many people," Hakyeon sighs. "You'd think winter sports are the most dangerous, but all these people keep hurting themselves when it's almost spring."

Hongbin stops with his fingers on the door handle, cocking a judgmental eyebrow at Hakyeon.

"Did you really become a sports physician because you thought you could slack off any time of the year that isn't winter?"

Hakyeon shrugs. "Don't people become teachers so they can be free in summer?"

"No, they don't," Hongbin says and opens the door before Hakyeon could retort.

The guy is tall and looks... quite like he was beaten up in an alleyway, with the way he limps inside the room, his face going ghostly white when he accidentally places his weight on his right foot.

"Hello," he heaves, flicking his sweaty black fringe out of his face.

Hakyeon can't help the quiet "ugh" that leaves his throat as Hongbin takes the patient's elbow, guiding him to the chair and helping him sit down. He sends Hakyeon a narrow-eyed look afterwards, most probably expressing his distaste for Hakyeon's unprofessionalism.

"So, um," Hakyeon starts, eyes darting down at the guy's socked right foot, "what happened here, Mr.—"

"Jung Taekwoon," the patient says and Hakyeon takes note of it. Jung Taekwoon's gaze flicks up at Hakyeon then. "You're new."

"Fresh out of the university," Hongbin comments and Hakyeon tries his best not to glare at him.

"Yes, well," Hakyeon clears his throat. "Can you put your foot up here, please?" He pats his own thigh. "And tell me what happened."

The guy does as he is told, hissing painfully when his heel makes contact with the top of Hakyeon's thigh, a soft "fuck" filtering through his teeth, and he throws his head back, shutting his eyes tight.

"I’m sorry," he says, taking a deep breath to calm down.

"It happens," Hakyeon mutters under his breath.

"To you, especially," he hears Hongbin add and he can't be sure Taekwoon can't hear it but decides to let it go.

"So, what's all this?" Hakyeon asks, probably for the hundredth time as he pulls Taekwoon's black sock off as gently as he can.

"I took the wrong step when I kicked the ball," Taekwoon whispers and when Hakyeon glances up at him with his foot in his hands, he sees tears welling up in the guy's eyes. "Football," he explains and Hakyeon nods. "I lost my balance and it kind of just... twisted and I fell on it."

"It's not broken," Hakyeon says, turning his head left and right, trying to see if anything is off apart from the swelling and dark purple bruises on Taekwoon's ankle. "But you've got a nice sprain here."

"I figured that much," Taekwoon notes and Hakyeon raises his eyebrows, and if he presses at the swollen skin a little deliberately, no one can know but him. And Taekwoon, who cries out. "Can you just give me that really good painkiller Doctor Park used to prescribe?"

Hakyeon looks at Hongbin who sits in front of his screen with his brow furrowed.

"Fentanyl?" he asks, looking up at Hakyeon.

"Ah, yes, that one," Taekwoon sighs, swallowing hard like he can already feel the sweet numbness from the medicine.

"You'll be better off with some Advil," Hakyeon replies, patting Taekwoon's knee. "Hongbin, can you give me the bandage?"

Hongbin stands up from his chair and rummages through one of the cupboards, handing Hakyeon the entire box he finds, filled with bandages, band-aids and a pair of scissors, sitting back down on his chair and typing up the diagnosis in Taekwoon's record.

"There you go," Hakyeon says and almost smiles at his artwork.

"Is this going to hold, though?" Taekwoon asks, sceptical. "Doctor Park always made it tighter."

"Excuse me, but I know what I'm doing," Hakyeon quips, inhaling deeply and counting to three when he hears Hongbin's snort. "If I wrapped it around your ankle tighter, you would have to come back for an appointment to amputate your toes in two days."

"If you say so," Taekwoon shrugs.

"Yes, if I say so," Hakyeon sulks, his cheeks heating up at being doubted in his own consulting room that he studied his ass off for back at the university. And God, how long it took for that charlatan Park to finally be kicked out so Hakyeon could take his place. "Put some ice on it, elevate it, and come back in a week so I can take a look at it. But you must know how it works."

"Yeah, um," Taekwoon scratches his head as Hakyeon puts his sock back on his foot. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The guy pulls his leg back and pushes himself up from the chair, leaving the room with Hongbin's help. When the door closes after him, Hongbin looks back at Hakyeon with a grin like a Cheshire cat on his face.

“Shut up,” Hakyeon grumbles.

“I didn’t say anything,” Hongbin shrugs as he pads back to his desk.

“Anyways, what is it that Park knew better than me?” Hakyeon sulks. “He was an asshole and nearly alcoholic, I doubt he would’ve treated an injury like this better.”

“Maybe they drank together.”

“What?”

“I mean,” Hongbin peeks from behind the screen of his computer, “this guy has had a history with Park, judging from his record.”

Hakyeon furrows his brow and stands up, lurking behind Hongbin as he leans forward to read through the different diagnoses, Hongbin scrolling lower slowly.

“Broken elbow,” Hakyeon murmurs, “dislocated knee cap, sprained wrist, broken fingers, sprained ankles… how is this guy still alive?”

“And why doesn’t he see an orthopaedist?” Hongbin muses.

“A true enigma he is,” Hakyeon mumbles and walks back to his chair.


	2. II

Jung Taekwoon returns a week later, now fully healed and with both of his shoes on his feet, walking without much trouble.

“How are you feeling today?” Hakyeon asks as Taekwoon takes a seat in front of him.

“My foot’s okay,” Taekwoon says, and when Hakyeon glances up from his laptop, noticing the sling his right arm is in, hanging from his neck, it looks like the tips of Taekwoon's ears turn pink.

“What… is going on there?” Hakyeon asks, furrowing his brow as he points at the sling.

“Oh, this?” Taekwoon blinks at his arm like he had already forgotten about its existence, even though it clearly is _injured_. “I had a minor shoulder dislocation.”

“A what?” Hakyeon squawks and Hongbin sighs behind his own desk, fingers running rapidly on his keyboard.

“It just came out and went back a few seconds later,” Taekwoon shrugs his uninjured shoulder. “It doesn’t even really hurt, but the doctor at the emergency department said I should immobilise it.”

“The x-ray showed nothing major,” Hongbin says and Taekwoon nods, as if confirming. “But he needs rehabilitation from you.”

“That’ll take at least two months,” Hakyeon whines and he sees Taekwoon raise his eyebrows. “Why is communication so awful in this hospital, Jesus…”

“I can look for someone else, if it’s a problem.”

Hakyeon cuts Taekwoon a glare, Taekwoon muttering, “Or… not,” before turning his head away, examining the different appliances in the room.

“Okay,” Hakyeon drags his hands over his face. “Okay, let’s check your ankle first.”

Taekwoon kicks his sneaker off with the shoelaces still tied, and Hakyeon takes his foot into his lap, pulling his sock off. The skin is back to normal and there’s no swelling anymore, and when he turns Taekwoon's ankle around, the patient doesn’t make any sound.

“You should rest it for at least a week more,” Hakyeon says, helping him put his sock back on. “Not that you could play any sports with your shoulder like this, anyway.”

“We have a match next week though,” Taekwoon grimaces.

“Well, you’ll have to watch it from the bleachers, I’m afraid.”

Taekwoon clicks his tongue, throwing his head back.

“All right, let’s see your shoulder,” Hakyeon says, standing up. “So you’re saying it got dislocated but got relocated by itself immediately?”

“Yes.”

“Your ligaments are awful, it seems,” Hakyeon shakes his head. “You should consider getting them treated.”

“What does that mean?” Taekwoon asks suspiciously as Hakyeon takes the sling off his neck and arm, steadying it by Taekwoon's stomach.

Hakyeon tells him about the physiotherapy he will need to get, from someone whose profession is just that, after they’re done with treating his shoulder. Taekwoon listens with his face falling gradually, emitting a yelp every now and again when Hakyeon moves his injured shoulder. He looks quite cute with the frown on his face, lips pursed and two small lines forming between his eyebrows, his nose scrunching up. Hakyeon feels his grip weaken on Taekwoon's arm and he only notices it when Taekwoon cracks one of his eyes open, peering up at him at which Hakyeon flinches and pulls at Taekwoon's arm a little harder than necessary, Taekwoon crying out.

“I’m sorry!” Hakyeon exclaims, trying to massage Taekwoon's shoulder as softly as possible, ultimately ending up caressing it and Taekwoon looks at his fingers questioningly.

Hakyeon moves Taekwoon's shoulder a bit more, keeping his eyes on his own hands, and puts the sling back around Taekwoon's arm and neck in the end.

“We should repeat this about two times a week,” Hakyeon says, sitting down and looking at his laptop. “What about 3pm every Tuesday and Thursday?”

“Can’t we do it more often so I can play next week?” Taekwoon asks.

“You can’t play next week,” Hakyeon declares and Taekwoon rolls his eyes.

“Fine,” Taekwoon sighs, rising from his seat. “See you on Thursday, then.”

“Yes, and keep your arm immobile!”

“All right, all right.”

He turns around and makes for the door, Hakyeon following him with his gaze, taking a deep breath at the sight of Taekwoon's broad shoulders and his back, his muscular calves under his tight-fitting jeans.

“Hey,” he hears Hongbin as his assistant snaps his finger before his eyes. Hakyeon blinks a few and looks at him. “Oh, God, you’re crushing on him.”

“What? Who? What are you talking about?” Hakyeon splutters, hiding behind his laptop.

“This is going against medical ethics, you know,” Hongbin shakes his head reproachfully. “He can be hot all he wants, but he’s your _patient_.”

“I don’t think he’s hot,” Hakyeon retorts with less fervency than he’d like.

“Oh, come on, Hakyeon!” Hongbin shouts, frustrated, and Hakyeon's cheeks are ablaze behind the screen of his laptop as he slides lower in his seat. “He’s tall, has broad shoulders and thick thighs and the face of a doll, and he’s annoying you. I know you’re falling for him.”

Hakyeon groans, flopping over on top of his desk, burying his face into his arms, feeling the blush spread over his features. It’s true that Taekwoon's looks are more than pleasing to the eye, and it’s also true that Hakyeon tends to date people whom he views with immense antipathy at the beginning—Jaehwan was a very good example of this habit of his. Taekwoon is too much of a perfectly snarky smartass for Hakyeon's stupid teenage girl-like taste in men.

“I’m just saying,” Hongbin says quietly like anybody could eavesdrop on them, “you should be careful, Hakyeon. You don’t want to end your career because of a fleeting romance with someone who’s only around you because his ligaments are shit.”

Hakyeon groans again.


	3. III

Taekwoon shows up on Thursday and the following Tuesday as well, and after that, on the coming Thursday.

Hakyeon feels it's becoming scarier by time how much he looks forward to all the therapy sessions with him, his face feeling hot whenever Taekwoon takes his T-shirt off and Hakyeon gets to massage and move his shoulder—the conoid tubercle of his clavicle stands out sharply and fuck, that makes sweat break out on Hakyeon's hairline every single time he sees it, and not simply because of his enthusiasm for anatomy.

Hongbin watches them from the fringes of the room and doesn't say a word, but Hakyeon can feel his gaze on the back of his head whenever Taekwoon tells Hakyeon how "Doctor Park would've just given me some good old ibuprofen and I could be out there, playing," and Hakyeon pulls at his arm just a little bit rougher. If it wouldn't be for Hongbin's hawk eyes gazing at them, Hakyeon would probably faint—fact. But he would also feel less pressured and awkward and Taekwoon wouldn't ask him if he has a fever because his cheeks are so red.

Taekwoon, apart from being an annoying know-it-all, is also very passionate about football, and Hakyeon, not being a fan of sports himself ("You're a _sports physician_ , for God's sake!" Hongbin yells at him after an appointment with Taekwoon), nods and tries to pay attention to whatever Taekwoon has to say, though it doesn't excite him particularly.

"Hakyeon?"

Hakyeon snaps out of his daze at the way Taekwoon calls him in his soft voice, the familiar way he calls him by his first name after having found out they're roughly the same age still confusing Hakyeon a little.

"Did you hear me?" Taekwoon asks, and oh, that's a small whine in his tone, his face slightly upset as he looks up at Hakyeon.

"Sorry?"

"I was asking if I can attend the match the week after next."

"I don't know, Taekwoon," Hakyeon replies, letting go of his arm with a sigh. "It all depends on the progress. Jerk your arm back, but be careful."

Taekwoon moves his elbow backwards as if hitting someone in the stomach with it, and his face scrunches up, his other hand coming up to instinctively cup his shoulder.

"Right," Hakyeon says, handing Taekwoon his T-shirt, a faded black Nirvana one this time. "At this point, I don't think you'll be able to attend it. Not as long as you feel the smallest of pain whenever you move your shoulder."

"And if I take some painkillers?" Taekwoon asks, trying to wiggle his head through the collar of his shirt, allowing Hakyeon some time to marvel at his lean torso, Hongbin clearing his throat when Hakyeon swallows thickly.

"I know you got used to being mistreated by Park," Hakyeon says, anger seeping into his voice, Taekwoon's eyebrows twitching at it, "but I'm determined to _heal_ you, instead of just letting you go with some awful painkillers so you can further damage your body until you can't even move your limbs."

Taekwoon sucks in a sharp breath and stares at Hakyeon for a while, his pretty, almond shaped eyes boring into Hakyeon's until Hakyeon can't take it anymore and looks away.

"Thank you," Taekwoon says. "I'm— uh, thanks a lot, Hakyeon."

"See you next week," Hakyeon mumbles.

"Yeah. See you."

When Hakyeon looks back at him, Taekwoon is smiling, his cute cheeks bunching up and his eyes sparkling, and Hakyeon needs to grab the edge of his desk so he won't swoon.

"It's getting out of hand," Hongbin singsongs once the door shuts behind Taekwoon.

"Don't give me this right now," Hakyeon grumbles.

"You've fallen too deep, Hakyeon," Hongbin says, clicking his tongue teasingly. "I've never heard you be so passionate about your profession."

"I studied for six years for a reason, you dummy."

"Yeah, so you can hit on your crush," Hongbin sniggers. "Maybe I should leave you two alone next time."

"Shush."

But Hakyeon wants nothing more than for Hongbin to stop frustrating him whenever he's with Taekwoon.


	4. IV

Hakyeon is playing solitaire on his laptop when the phone rings next to Hongbin and he answers it, Hakyeon double clicking so the ace of hearts takes its place in the right corner, and he rejoices quietly.

"I'm sorry?" Hongbin asks from whoever is on the other end of the line, looking up at Hakyeon, furrowing his brow. "So... you don't want to come to him anymore?"

_Who's that?_ , Hakyeon mouths, but Hongbin only closes his eyes dismissively, listening carefully. Hakyeon feels his spine stiffen.

"Okay," Hongbin says in a tone that suggests he doesn't think it's okay at all. "Can I ask you why?"

Hongbin licks his lips, and Hakyeon knows he's nervous.

"All right," he says. "We will transfer your record to Doctor Choi. Yes. Bye."

Hongbin hangs up and stares at the screen of his computer in utter confusion. Hakyeon opens his mouth to ask him what's going on, but then the phone rings again and Hongbin becomes busy.

"Um... sorry?" he asks, his frown deepening. "But you just told me... I— I don't understand this." He takes a deep breath and blinks up at Hakyeon. "All right, I'll put you over to him."

He pushes some buttons on the device and nods towards Hakyeon's phone indicating he's connecting whoever he was talking to to Hakyeon.

"Cha Hakyeon, how can I help you?" Hakyeon asks with a lump in his throat.

"Hello, Hakyeon," someone on the other end says and the voice sounds familiar, though Hakyeon has a hard time placing it what with the distortion of the line. "It's Taekwoon."

"Oh?" Hakyeon blurts out smartly. "Um, what's wrong?”

"I just wanted to tell you that I don't intend to continue the therapy with you."

Hakyeon feels his stomach drop, nausea creeping up in his throat. There are tears prickling his eyes, too, and damn it, if Taekwoon knows Hakyeon has a crush on him and he even wants to report it—

"Why?"

"I'll just go to the physiotherapist you recommended."

"I see," Hakyeon replies and Hongbin is looking at him questioningly, but Hakyeon decides to look out the window, deflating like a leaky balloon.

"Yeah," Taekwoon says. "I was also wondering if you wanted to come watch the match of my team with me this Saturday."

"What?!" Hakyeon yells and he hears a laugh from the other side. "Aren't you changing doctors because... I don't know, because you hate me?"

"What? No. I'm changing doctors because I figured you had to keep your distance from me as long as I was your patient. Which I'm not anymore. So, what do you say?"

"I— I mean... okay? I guess?" Hakyeon stutters, not quite grasping what really is going on.

"Cool," Taekwoon says, and Hakyeon might be mistaken, but it sounds like he's smiling. "See you at the Sports Arena at 4 on Saturday, then."

"Okay," Hakyeon mutters, and then Taekwoon hangs up, leaving Hakyeon staring at the receiver uncomprehendingly.

"What did he want?" Hongbin inquires.

Hakyeon lets the corners of his mouth curl up and before he knows it, he's grinning from ear to ear.


	5. V

Hakyeon is still quite dazed as he sits next to an overly excited Taekwoon, watching a bunch of guys in either red or blue uniforms chase a black and white ball underneath them.

Taekwoon is most literally shaking with excitement, his shoulder and thigh bumping with Hakyeon's, the bag of crackers in his hand long forgotten. He mumbles a quiet “shit” or a “that’s right, do it, _do it_ ” every now and again, his cheeks flushed like he’s down on the pitch with his team mates, wearing his blue uniform himself.

“This is a nightmare,” he says, leaning back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “If I were down there—”

“You guys would be leading?” Hakyeon asks, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Not necessarily, no,” Taekwoon replies, clearly not catching the sarcastic undertone of Hakyeon's question. “But they should be more energetic.”

“Must be frustrating,” Hakyeon says understandingly, “sitting here with me instead of playing.”

“It is, a little,” Taekwoon admits and then he turns to Hakyeon, expression sheepish. “But I don’t mind being here with you.”

“Wow, you’re flattering me,” Hakyeon laughs.

There’s a hand on his, Taekwoon holding his fingers gingerly and Hakyeon's laughter dies down, his heart beating a lot faster than it should. He feels Taekwoon cup his cheek, lifting his head so Hakyeon looks at him, and a moment later, there are warm lips pressing to his mouth, Taekwoon kissing him sweetly. Hakyeon presses closer to him, leaning into the touch, but then Taekwoon pulls back with a hiss.

“Careful of my shoulder,” he says, grimacing.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, I forgot—”

“I’m kidding, _doctor_ ,” Taekwoon giggles and Hakyeon slaps his hand, but then Taekwoon covers Hakyeon's fingers with his other hand that’s still holding the crackers, and kisses him again.

If anything, this would be worth being kicked out of the Medical Association, Hakyeon thinks.

But he might be getting ahead of himself.

**Author's Note:**

> the enigma here, for me, is neo why can't i write neo this is so frustrating;;
> 
>  
> 
> feel free to talk to me about any of my stories or just vixx in general on [tumblr](http://hongbab.tumblr.com/), [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/hongbab) or [aff](http://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view/1061753) ♡ please support me on [ko-fi.com](https://ko-fi.com/hongbab) if you can ♡


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